


Stories of all we did

by loonyloopy



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabbles, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 06:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 8,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5081579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonyloopy/pseuds/loonyloopy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>drabbles of my Esme Adaar and Josephine. Mostly fluff and some naked cuddling</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. only you

Esme watched Josephine. Her slender fingers on the parchment, the spot of ink on her cheek, dark, open hair. She was working, propped up against a wall of pillows and her skin was warm and golden, the strokes of the feather precise, while her lover enjoyed the lazy evening. Esme couldn’t bring herself to even move one limb and hopefully no one dared to call for her in the next hours. Having a night to themselves was rare these days and she rather enjoyed those quiet moments with Josephine. Being naked helped as well. It had taken so much courage to kiss her, to ask for more, and Esme was sure that she would never tire of watching her. 

There always was something so graceful and gentle in her movements, something that made her heart beat faster. She’d covered them with a thin blanket, but the taste of her still lingered on her tongue. Josephine touched Esme’s neck and placed a small kiss on her forehead.

“I can’t concentrate, if you’re staring at me like that.”

“Hm?”

“Esme!”

“But …”

“No but. I have to finish this later or the king will openly declare war on the Inquisition.”

“Oh-oh, that sounds dramatic.”

Josephine smiled then and Esme felt the blush in her neck and cheeks.

“I love you.”

That stopped the writing. Josephine put the ink and parchment away, careful not to spoil anything, and put her head against Esme’s shoulder. One arm draped around the taller woman’s waist, bare legs entwined and a content sigh on her lips. Her breath was so very sweet.

“If we have to face another army soon, I’m going to blame you, Inquisitior.”

“With you at my side, I’m ready to face every army and king.”

Esme bit her lip. She was sure that she had read something familiar in one of Varric’s book once, which she kept carefully hidden beneath her desk. Falling in love had been such a strange experience. Even stranger for a Tal Vashoth, who had been raised by parents that fled the Qun and had later joined a band of mercenarys. It wasn’t Esme’s first choice, but the need to survive and eat. She refused to kill anybody for gold and it kept her from going insane during the dark years. 

Now it was Josephine with her smiles, soft fingers and her keen mind that made her survive admits the terror and chaos. Their courtship had been full of misunderstandings and errors and Esme was never sure, if Josephine could even fall in love with someone like her, horns, magic and all. She felt lips pressed against her neck. 

As it turned out, she could. And did. Kings be damned.


	2. reunion kiss

Esme was tired, aching bones, the armor too heavy. Her magic was nothing more than a gentle hum in the back of her mind. She couldn’t bring herself to even try to form a simple spell and longed for rest. Shadows rested in her head, a deep voice, who taunted and threatened. But they had won. The gates of Skyhold opened on command and she could hear the people cheer. The air smelled of fresh snow. Victory. What a strange thought. After all this, the pain and the fear, weeks of planing, of playing a game that she’d never understood, Corypheus was finally defeated. A Qunari was the hero of Thedas and the corners of Esme’s mouth lifted into a smile. A mage nonetheless.

“Esme!” The shout was heard through the whole courtyard and she saw a small figure appear on the steps. Josephine was quick and her run raised a few eyebrows. They’d only seen their Ambassador composed, quiet, polite. Esme knew how she wore her politeness like a weapon, ready to be drawn at every moment. It was rare moment to witness her free of the pressure to put up a dignified appearance.

“Josie.” A quick jump and she was in her arms, warm and soft and smelling of honey and cinnamon. Esme spun her around without thinking, carefully avoiding tripping over her own feet. She was so small and light in her arms and even tired bones couldn’t ease her grip. It was the joy of being alive, of being finally free. She was lightheaded as she sat Josephine down again.

“You returned.” Her lover’s eyes showed relief and Esme leaned down to kiss her. It was nothing more than a peck of lips, but Josephine wrapped her arms around the taller woman, pressed her body against the armor. She heard some giggles and a whistle, which surely belonged to Sera. But it didn’t matter that everyone saw. Josephine was her whole world, had been for a while now. Maybe they’d finally find the time to be themselves, travel around without the burden of a hopeless war. She’d always wanted to see Antiva. Esme laughed and kissed Josephine’s cheeks and her brow and hopefully everything else, when the celebration was over.

“Yes… yes. And I will never leave you again.”

“You better not.”


	3. dust motes

Esme watched the dust motes lazily circling through the air. With the sun low on the horizon, they looked almost golden and she tried catching some of them. She’d opened the curtains earlier and realized that maybe having a lot of books also attracted a lot of dust. Well, she would rather part with the curtains than her favorite stories. The Inquisitor sure had her priorities sorted out. Esme smirked and rummaged through her wool, searching for a fitting color for the scarf she’d been wanting to knit for a while now, but free time was so rare these days. As were the quiet moments. Her eyes were drawn to the hunched figure of her lover. 

Josephine sat at the desk, wearing nothing more than a frilly robe and a feather between her fingers. Her brow was creased and her lips drawn tight. She was stunning and Esme felt herself wanting to touch her silky hair, her smooth skin. She coughed slightly. Now was clearly not the time, because Josephine was working and perhaps saving the Inquisition from another diplomatic nightmare. 

“Answering a request we can’t fulfill?”

Josephine’s sigh was long and suffering.

“Yes, my dear. You can’t imagine what people demand these days. Here is a Fereldan Bann, who want us to settle a dispute between him and his neighbor, because said neighbor allegedly stole one his puppies and claims that the mabari willingly imprinted on him.”

“You’re joking.”

“Sadly I’m not.”

She held up the scroll, which was filled with neat rows of words upon words. Esme laughed and finally chose the red yarn. Her knitting needles felt familiar and worn between her fingers. She still couldn’t stop smirking. The Inquisition was famous now and everyone wanted to be on their good side. Giant Qunari leader or not. 

“Can’t he just breed another litter?”

Growing up in the free marches, she’d never much contact with the famous breed and if she was being honest, she preferred cats.

“I’ll advise as much and also emphasize the fact that we have to deal with an evil ancient magister, who wants to kill everyone and that our time is very limited indeed.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“I hope not, but if he doesn’t see reason, I’ll just invite him to Skyhold.”

“But ask him to bring the puppies with him. Cullen would be delighted.”

“Of course, my dear.”


	4. shoulder rubs

Esme was far more observant than people gave her credit for. Maybe it came with being such a tall and powerful mage, but she did care, and she did see, if someone close to her was hurting. She noticed how strained Josephine looked these days, how she would flinch ever so slightly when moving her shoulders and how her eyes were red rimmed from a lack of sleep. Being the level headed diplomat was perhaps the most difficult job of all. Esme just tried closing rifts and battled hoards of demons, but Josephine had to deal with rude and arrogant nobles every single day and those acted far worse than any demon ever did. She thought about maybe inviting her to a nice dinner, but as of now, they’re still were in the middle of courtship. Maybe. Esme was never sure, if Josephine understood what she was trying to do and so inviting her to some fanciful eating was perhaps overstepping some boundaries. The qunari decided on showing her affection in a more subtle way and convinced herself that this was not stupid.

She tipped Josephine on the back. “Josephine? Lean back please.”

The woman in question looked startled and shook her head slightly. 

“Ah, Inquisitor… excuse me?” 

Esme tried using her best Inquisitor voice, diplomatic but forceful. “Lean back. I’m going to help you getting rid of some of the tension in your shoulders. I can see that they’re hurting you.”

Was that too demanding? Did she do something wrong? Because Josephine wouldn’t look her in the eyes and concentrated on the parchments in front of her. “What? I mean, no. You don’t have to worry.”

She touched one gold clad shoulder.“But I do, Josephine.” 

Esme breathed a sigh of relief as Josephine did put down her ink and pen after that. Her cheeks were darker than usual and she could feel the same blush building on her own face. Great. The mighty Inquisition relied heavily on a blushing Qunari, who didn’t know how to talk to her crush.

Esme put her hands onto Josephine’s shoulders and started with slow circles, kneading through some terrible knots. “I learned a thing or two about shoulder rubs, when traveling with my old, eh, friends.” But the ambassador didn’t seem to listen anymore, instead she leaned heavily against her touch, lips parted and eyes closed. Oh. Esme tried looking somewhere else, because Josephine’s face spoke of pleasure and trust and anything in between. Maybe she’d finally found the way into a woman’s heart.

Shoulder rubs.


	5. slow dance

“This isn’t going to work.” Esme had tried, really tried, to remember the right movements and how she was supposed to held herself, while learning the steps to some Orlesian dance. Head high, shoulders square, never look your partner in the eyes. She’d stepped on Josephine’s feet at least three times and was neither graceful nor elegant, but a tall Qunari versed in magic and knitting, not in the finer arts of a court.

“You’re getting better. Just try to be patient.”

Esme wore her new clothing and the red uniform seemed a bit tight around the middle, and not made for sudden movements. Thank the Maker that she didn’t need to wear a dress, because she was pretty sure that it would look even sillier. Representing the Inquisition in formal wear, seemed the better decision. She missed the light leather armor and her spiky gauntlets though.

“Are we sure that I have to dance? Maybe I could spent the evening with talking and charming people with quick wit?” Her ambassador laughed and shook her head.

“Sadly, we require both your wit and your skills in the ballroom.”

Josephine was a fantastic dancer, of course, and her feet didn’t seem to touch the ground beneath her when she moved. Watching her dance, reminded Esme of watching clouds.

“And maybe we try something else. Give me your hand.” Josephine’s fingers were small compared to her own, but strong enough for a firm grip.

"Follow my lead.” They didn’t have any music and it felt weird to waltz around in her bedroom. At least no one could watch her stepping onto Josephine’s feet here and the quarters offered enough space for trial and error. Both women moved slower this time, more careful. Esme was aware of the faint scent of clover and cinnamon, which clung to Josephine’s skin. The sensation had become so familiar in the past months and reminded her of everything good in her life.

Josephine guided her through some easy steps and circles and never let go of her hand. “You’re getting better!” Her laughter was so sweet and light.

Esme decided that dancing wasn’t that horrible after all.


	6. rain

Rain in Antiva was warm.

Esme didn’t know that. Or that it even rained in Antiva. Her skin had darkened in the past weeks, while she was staying with Josephine and her family, and she had problems in dealing with such a different climate. Rain was a welcome distraction. The gardens of the Montilyet residence seemed vast, filled with hedges and beautiful sculptures, and the lingering scent of citrus. She loved them and spent idle hours with reading or knitting in them. They owned comfy benches, seemingly made for a tall Qunari like her.

The rain had surprised her. She’d been waiting for Josephine to finish her daily work, dealing with the end of the Inquisition wasn’t easy, but her lover handled it with grace and patience. Some part of her would never understand how she deserved such a woman. She got up and the rain met her face, washed away the pain and troubles, the ache, which was caused by a missing limb. Strange how it still hurt. There was nothing left to cause any trouble. Esme stretched out her hand, closed her eyes. It felt heavenly. It was quite the downpour and her clothing was soaked fast. She’d quit wearing armor and robes and now foundd herself in simple blouses and trousers.

A delicate hand touched her. “You look lovely in the rain.”

Josephine’s hair was mussed and wet and Esme could count every drop of rain on her skin. Stains of ink covered her fingers and she smelt of parchment. Nothing spoke of the strain those correspondences must cause her, but when had she ever complained about anything? Esme tried to lure her away from her desk as often as possible, and found willing help in Josephine’s family.

“You are the one, who looks lovely.” This earned her a small, melodic laugh.

“As always, you’re too modest, my dear.”

Esme wrapped her arm around the other woman. Her height meant leaning down, while Josephine had to stand on tiptoes, but kissing had become easy. Soft lips and the taste of honey. Warmth spread through Esme’s body and she pulled her a bit closer. Josephine felt so very small in her arms, but she’d learned that her spine and will were made of steel, nearly indestructible.

Josephine giggled when they parted. “We should stop, or we’ll cause a scandal.”

Esme looked at the dark clouds and felt her wet hair cling to her scalp, the slight shivering of the woman in her arms.

“Or we’ll catch a cold.”

Josephine kissed her cheek. “I’d nurse you back to health, keep you warm beneath the blankets and cover you with kisses.”

“Maybe I should catch a cold then.”

Josephine smiled. “Maybe you should.”


	7. forever

“Oh, how delightful!” Josephine put her arms around Esme’s back and kissed her neck. For a person as small as her she sure had a tight grip, and she was warm and soft against her own body. The faint smell of tea and cinnamon rose and nothing could ever be sweeter.

Josephine’s little squeal of joy almost let her forget how difficult it was to plan such a surprise, especially when your lover was the former Ambassador of the Inquisition and best friends with the former spy master of said organization, who was very loyal, but also very creepy.

Esme had pulled strings, staged some subtle distractions and involved the whole Montilyet family to get the gift and the moment right. Afterward it seemed easy. Get some delicious food and wine, find a thick blanket and hope that the weather would be on your side. It was. Esme thanked the Maker for that. This part of the beach was eerily quiet, aside from the gulls and the waves crashing against the shore. It felt and looked like magic. Warm sand between her toes, the woman she loved at her side. How did she ever deserve so much? It had been months since leaving the Inquisition forever and every hour, every minute, showed her that she had made the right decision. Such a life was preferable to the constant battles and pain. 

Esme had put magic torches into the sand, because the sun was sinking and painted the whole world red and gold. Soon it would be dark. Perfect. 

She took Josephine’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “It’s the day of your birth and I wanted to make it special.”

“It’s wonderful, my love.” Josephine smiled. “And I don’t have to sit through another ball celebrated in my honor.” Her family did indeed spare no gold to host a fancy evening, but it seemed rather for pleasing other merchants families not for their daughter. Antiva didn’t look like Orlais, but with all the scheming and double crossings, it sure felt that way at times. So Esme made sure that they wouldn’t be offended by Josephine’s absence and her mother would claim that she had taken sick and serve some more expensive wine.

“I thought we could use some alone time and I wanted to show you your gift.”

“Ah, I’m intrigued. Is it something dirty?” Her laughter sounded like little bells and suddenly all the courage left Esme. It shouldn’t be as complicated, but sudden fear tinted her words and voice. Maybe something dirty would’ve been easier. They sure had a lot of fancy scarves on the markets. 

A blush covered her cheeks and she couldn’t met Josephine’s eyes. 

“No, but …” Esme scratched her neck. “Josephine, could you … eh, maybe… wait. Lets change positions for that.” Leaving such a comfortable setting was awkward, but she guided Josephine to sit in front of her, while she knelt and took her hand.

“Esme?” Her eyes were wide and Esme tried to calm her breathing and fumbled with the delicate, golden ring, which was hidden in one of her pockets. She’d trained for this, tried every declaration and word in front of a mirror, and still, she felt very flustered. It was even worse than asking Josephine’s parents for the hand of their daughter, but they seemed to look past beneath the fact that she was a Qunari and not the ideal match. Her lover had never given her any reason to doubt her feelings and hopefully this would end well.

“Josephine. I thank the Maker for every day that I can spend with you. Your kindness and your grace amaze me and your beauty is beyond every poem that I could ever write. You’re my sun and my heart and my life… and I really want to wake up every morning and see your face. For the rest of my days. So…” Esme couldn’t finish, because suddenly her arms were full of Josephine and she found herself pressed into the sand, and a mouth on hers and a giggle in her throat.

“Yes. Of course, my love. Yes yes yes.” Josephine wouldn’t stop kissing her and Esme was so relieved and so in love.


	8. a bath

Esme decided that investing Inquisition gold in a frilly, Orlesian bathtub hadn’t been the worst decision in her reign as the Herald of Andraste. Offering enough space for her tall form, it also impressed with standing on four lion heads and the general golden appearance. Fitting it into her rooms had taken some time, but Esme immensely enjoyed this method of getting rid of her aching muscles. Not to mention the silly, pink bubbles, which came with the expensive bathing salts. A gift from Leliana, who’d only asked, if she maybe could borrow it from time to time. Esme agreed, of course. She stretched her legs, wiggled her toes. With a bit of magic she’d even spared some poor servants the act of filling it with hot water and she could ask for nothing more than a peaceful bath after fighting that huge dragon in the Western Approach. The smell of burning hair still clung to her nose and she counter it with a bunch of candles, which were currently the only source of light.

Josephine wore nothing more than a robe and the candles made her skin look like burnished copper, mixed with gold. Her hair was framing her face, all wavy and dark. Esme took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

“You look stunning, my love.”

There was a coy smile on her lover’s lips, as if she still wasn’t used to being called lovely and beautiful and all the things she was and which made Esme’s life brighter and better. Josephine carefully touched the brightly colored foam.

“Is there room for two?”

“For you?”

Esme kissed her wrist.

“Always.”

The robe slid from her shoulders without a sound, revealing soft curves. The sight of Josephine still made her heart miss a beat and then she was in her arms, warm skin on her chest, fingers entwined. Esme pressed her lips against Josephine’s neck, kissed her throat and tried to find her pulse beneath her tongue. She always tasted of something sweet. Maybe a special lotion? An Antivan secret? Esme would ask her. Later. As of now, Josephine seemed content with the gentle kisses and touches. A small sigh escaped her lips as she turned around, wrapped her legs around Esme’s waist, straddling her with unexpected strength. In this position there were almost at the same height and Josephine’s eyes were dark.

“And here I thought that this would be nothing more than a comforting bath.”

“You can’t blame me for wanting to kiss you.”

“No, you can’t. I’m afraid you are stick with me and my kisses.”

Josephine smiled and let one of her hands rest on Esme’s thighs. Her fingers not moving much but with the promise of something more.

“We have to be careful with the water. We don’t want it ruining the carpets.”

“I’m a mage. I’m sure I can think of something.”

“A spell for drying the carpets? You’re amazing.”

Esme answered with another kiss.


	9. birthday

“Josephine? Josephine, wake up.” 

Her lover was curled up beneath the sheets, knees dragged up to her chest, and a peaceful expression on her face. She looked younger, even innocent. Black hair spread over the pillows and Esme could feel her heart swell at the sight. It seemed nearly impossible to resist the urge of kissing her and the sun bathed her in warm light. She seemed to glow. Esme gently touched Josephine’s bare shoulder.

“My love, wake up.” Lately, there hasn’t been enough sleep for either of them and under normal circumstances Esme would’ve let her rest, but today was not normal. Today was special. Light eyes opened and Josephine stifled a yawn, stretching her arms above her head.

“Esme? Did something happen?”

She sat down and took Josephine’s hand. Her fingers looked so small compared to hers.

“Yes. You forgot to tell me something.”

Sounding stoic didn’t work that good, but Josephine seemed shocked nonetheless. She sat up and rubbed her head. 

“Oh Maker. No. I thought, I had all your appointments written down.” Looking crestfallen, she tried to get up, but Esme wouldn’t budge, and pressed a kiss to Josephine’s knuckles.

“You had but one.”

There was worry on her face and she bit her lip.

“I can’t remember.”

´She kissed her cheek. She’d just woken up and still tasted sweet.

“Josephine, it’s your birthday.”

Esme couldn’t believe that Josephine actually forgot things. Especially something that personal. Knowing the Montilyet family there had been huge feasts in the past, whenever one of the sisters celebrated a name day and various gifts. Even Esme, an orphaned Qunari, raised by villagers, celebrated hers every year, with a cake and all.

“My…”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Josephine shook her head and Esme got up.

“Leliana told me about a week ago and so, no work for you today. You get to spend the rest of the day in bed, preferable with me, but I’d also offer you the comfort of enjoying some time on your own, or maybe a nice walk in the gardens. Nothing exhausting and surely no Inquisition.”

Of course, Josephine could do everything she wanted, but a day filled with rest didn’t seem like the worst choice. Her lover blushed a bit and Esme took that as a yes. She shuffled around the room.

“I’m sorry for the rude awakening, but I wanted to show you your gifts and I have to meet someone in a few minutes and ah, I’m just selfish, because you’re so beautiful in the mornings.” Smooth. Really. One would’ve thought that after months of sharing a bed, she would get better at making compliments. 

Esme coughed and rubbed her neck.

“I mean, you’re beautiful in general. Every minute of the day.” That could’ve gone better, but Josephine laughed and that wasn’t the worst reaction. Her arms were quickly filled with a various assortment of gifts. She’d knitted a huge scarf for her, because it got quite cold that high up in the mountains.

“Cullen and Leliana also got something for you and Blackwall handpicked the flowers on the dresser. “ She carefully spread the gifts on the bed and they were clad in bright papers and ribbons.

“Actually, I believe that everyone put a gift in that pile.” There wasn’t much space left beside Josephine and she seemed too flustered to start opening them.

“They look so lovely.”

“You deserve every one of it and more. We also had your favorite chocolates and cakes imported and they will be with you shortly and I hope that I got the right ones, because I have absolutely no clue about Orlesian and Antivian sweets.”

Suddenly arms were wrapped around her and she felt Josephine pressing her face against her back. She was as warm, as her voice.

“Esme. Please. This is wonderful and I couldn’t ask for more.”

Esme let out a breath, she didn’t know she was even holding. The last week had been filled with so much secrecy and planing and spending gold on the markets, but Josephine was worth everyting. 

She turned around to face Josephine.

“I’m so glad that you like it.”

Josephine smiled and stretched her back and kissed her.


	10. a bride

“You’re not supposed to see me!”

Esme climbed through the window and took off her hood. Her disguise wasn’t the best, but as a tall Qunari options seemed limited at best, and she had to wait until nightfall to even leave her quarters. Josephine quickly hid behind a screen, which was adorned with delicately stitched flowers and ornaments. It fit with the rest of the room, the golden furniture and the smell of roses and lilies, which filled her nose. A traditional room for Antivian brides. 

Well, Esme was a bride to be herself, but her rooms weren’t neither as magnificent nor as spacious.

“But it’s been three days, Josephine. Three lonely, depressing days.” The Montilyet family had declared that spouses should spend a whole five days apart before the wedding. One should gather their thoughts and listen to their heart, if the love was true and honest. Esme didn’t need five days to know the answers to such questions. She loved Josephine more than her own life and being apart from her felt like torture.

Josephine’s voice sounded amused. Maybe she wasn’t angry at such a blatant display of disregarding tradition and thought about the romantic novels, she favored? Hopefully. 

“Lonely? My sources reported that you’ve spent a good amount of time with your former mercenary group and a lot of heavy drinking was involved in said gatherings.” To be honest, this plan had been made, when she was high in cups and in a deep conversation with Karriss, who claimed that nothing would be as romantic as to climb to your bride’s window in the middle of the night and declare your undying love. Shokrakar had laughed and nodded and refilled their cups. 

They were her family. Mercenaries or not and them staying at Antiva City felt like a blessing. And like a curse. This plan could have gone horribly wrong.

Esme crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Your sources?”

“Yes.” Josephine still hid behind the screen.

“Ah, so Yvette is spying for you now.” Who else? The younger sibling had taken such a keen interest in the doings of the Valo-Kas group and followed them around everywhere, showing them the markets and cathedrals and enjoying the attention it got her from her friends. 

“Maybe.”

Esme sighed and opted for a pout. “I’ve climbed this wall for you. Nearly fell down the balustrade and I think that I deserve a kiss.” She stepped closer. “I also got your favorite cake.”

True, the box looked a bit squished, but the cake did smell fine.

“Oh. You have?” Ah, that woke her curiosity.

“Hm!”

Suddenly Esme found Josephine in her arms, pressed tightly against her chest, arms clasped around her middle. Her hair looked wet and wild and her eyes warm. 

“One kiss and then you have to go, but I’m very grateful for that cake and your bravery. That balustrade is a tricky foe to besiege.” Her betrothed smiled, which made the whole adventure worthwhile. She would fight dragons and armies for her.

Esme rubbed Josephine’s back and closed her eyes to bathe in the sensation of the thin silk, which was pressed against her body. “Just one kiss?”

Josephine got on her tiptoes and kissed her. “Maybe two.”


	11. autumn

Harvestmere had always been a month of celebration. Even for former mercenaries turned Inquisitor and savior of the world. Skyhold gleamed in the colors of autumn, full of reds and browns and golds. With the setting sun, it almost reminded her of a halo. Somehow fitting for the Herald of Andraste and her friends. A delicious scent was to be found in the air and spoke of roasts and pies.

“Here is to us!” Esme raised her cup and the crowd cheered and laughed. The apple cider loosened their tongues and minds and for once, none of them thought of battles and blood. It was home-brewed, made after a special Fereldan receipt, and with the last ripe apples of the year, and the taste danced on her tongue. Even Leliana was laughing today and in deep conversation with one of her scouts.

Josephine sat at Esme’s side, enchanting in her Antivan ruffles and silks, but ever so often, she’d put her hands on a warm cup of tea and her arms were covered in goosebumps. This northern climate didn’t suit her constitution that well.

Esme leaned closer and whispered, because this conversation was only meant for the both of them. 

“Are you cold?”

“A bit. The sun has set early, today.” Josephine put on a brave face, but she was clearly freezing, even with the fires burning high.

“I wanted to wait for a special occasion, but I made you something.” Esme asked a servant to run to her quarters and look for a package in her special private drawers. 

“Oh? You shouldn’t have.”

Esme kissed Josephine’s knuckles. “But I did. I found this wool in Val Royeaux and had to buy it.” It was especially soft and said to be sheared from the Emperor’s sheep itself. As if Gaspard de Chalons would have a special interest in sheep wool, but the soft bronze color had reminded Esme of her love, and she’d spend an unholy amount of gold for it. Well, being the Inquisitor came with a fancy title and riches and the ability to buy expensive things and to spoil her lover.

She’d no time to actually wrap the scarf in something fancy, but the servant was quick and efficient and the wool still felt wonderful between her fingers. The scarf seemed long enough to cover Josephine’s graceful neck and shoulders and was as soft as a blanket. Esme’s fingers felt rough from the long hours filled with knitting, but seeing the admiration in those eyes was worth every aching limb.

Now, Josephine’s smile lit up the whole courtyard. “It’s lovely.”

It was. One of her master pieces, only short of the horn-warmers that she’d made for Bull and herself.

Esme wrapped the scarf around Josephine’s neck and leaned down to kiss her nose. “It suits you and it’ll keep you warm.” 

She looked a bit lost in the heavy scarf, but also comfortably snug. 

“I thought you’ll keep me warm?”

She pulled Josephine closer, wrapping her arms around her.

“I’ll do my best.”


	12. love

“You still love me, yes?” Esme had her arms around Josephine and tugged her closer. She pressed her face against her neck, careful of her horns, and trying to get as close to her as possible. Josephine’s body felt warm and smelled of oranges and cinnamon and black hair tickled her nose.

“Esme. We married yesterday.” Her voice sound muffled and sleepy, but that was to be expected. They’d gone to bed some hours ago, still slightly drunk on wine and the festivities. Their dresses lay on the floor, white and shiny and very lovely. Bedding traditions varied throughout Thedas, but her former mercenary group made sure to yell the weirdest and loudest obscenities in their direction, when the happy couple departed for their first night as wives. 

It’d made her blush. 

A lot. 

And in the end, both of them seemed too tired to even think of trying out the lewd suggestions and settled on kisses and cuddles. The rest would have to wait for another night. And a time without the fear of Josephine’s family might listening to them.

“But you love me?” Esme tightening her grip.

Sighing, Josephine rolled around and came to face her. “Very much.” She was soft and warm and perfect. Her eyes still carried traces of golden dust. She’d been looking like a goddess in her dress and with her skin glowing like some forbidden treasure.

“I love you, too.” Esme resisted the urge to kiss her and settled on pulling her even closer. Josephine laughed and wriggled, as if trying to escape, but then settled against Esme’s chest. 

“I sure hope you do. My mother would have both our hides, if we suddenly decide to part ways.” Josephine surely got her fierceness from her.

Esme linked their hands. “I’ll never leave you.”

“Good.” Josephine smiled.  
Ask loonyloopy a question#josephine montilyet


	13. surprise

“Close your eyes. I have a surprise for you.” Esme put her hands on Josephine’s shoulders.

“A surprise? You didn’t have to.” The smile on her face made her heart miss a bit. She was so beautiful and stunning and what did she ever do to deserve such a woman in her life. The sheer absurdity of being in love with her, and being loved in return, struck her at the strangest moments.

Esme tucked a lose strand of hair behind Josephine’s ear.

“Oh, I did.” She kissed the tip of said ear.

“I’m curious. Very, very curious.” It’d been hard enough to operate in secret. Leliana helped and her contacts acted in silence. Distracting Josephine with stolen kisses seemed Esme’s favorite part of the whole ordeal. The distance between Josephine’s desk and the kitchens felt longer than usual and a few agents and soldiers snickered at the sight of their famed leader guiding her lover through the various floors of Skyhold, but Esme just smiled and greeted them. A heavy scent filled her nostrils and Josephine should’ve guessed by now, where they were headed, but a surprise was a surprise.

“Open your eyes.” Josephine blinked a few times and stared at the various tables filled with delicacies. Esme had bought and ordered everything from sweets to spiced rices, assorted pieces of cheese, breads smelling of saffron, pasta dishes, sugary creams and cakes, roasted ham, fresh fruits, and everything else. Luckily the Inquisition owned a few good trading routes and enough gold to pay for them. 

She stared at her hands, suddenly feeling rather unsure about the whole surprise. “I know that today is a special day in Antiva and because you’re here…” Esme blushed and was at a loss for words.

“I tried to get Antiva to you,” she finished. 

Josephine got on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around Esme’s neck. “I’m delighted. This is such a wonderful surprise and I’m going to try everything.”

Then she kissed her. “But I’m always home with you.”


	14. hot cocoa

“You’re still working, love?” Yawning, Esme pulled her robe closer around her body, slipped into a pair of comfy shoes, enjoying the feeling of warmth beneath her bare feet. She’d been asleep for a few hours, but woke up discovering that Josephine’s side of the bed felt cold and unused.

Her lover’s smile looked tired.

“There are just so many letters to write, demands to answer, nobles to please.” Josephine put her quill aside to rub her temples.

“You’re famous now. The Winter Palace put your name on everyone’s lips and most of them want to support us.” 

Shrugging she pressed a kiss against Josephine’s forehead. 

“Glad to hear it. Our hands are full with Corypheus. Don’t need another war on some petty nobles.” Most of them didn’t even want to work with a Qunari, a beast, surprisingly gentle, but still a horned savage for most. Josephine made it bearable and smiled and laughed and charmed. She’d be the better choice for an Inquisitor, but fate put her in another position. For once, the Maker had been gracious enough and intertwined their paths.

Esme used her magic to warm the kettle and the chocolate within. By now, it would be cold and thick and too hard to drink. Imported from Antiva, it brought a piece of home to Josephine. The rich smell filled the air, as she poured the chocolate in a cup.

“This make you’ll feel better.”

“Thank you.”

Josephine took a small sip and while she still seemed tired, there was a brightness to her cheeks and eyes. She missed her family and the warm shores of Antiva and maybe they’d soon have time to visit them. One could hope for a bit of free time.

Esme looked over Josephine’s shoulders and tried to decipher the delicate handwriting of an Orlesian noble, voiing their concern about another noble.

“And you have to promise me to come to bed after that letter. They can wait for another day.” She’d also hire some skilled writers, which would lessen the weight of Josephine’s work. 

Her lover put her hands on hers. “I will, if you promise me a lot of kisses.” 

“Oh! By my honor, I swear that I will shower you in kisses for the rest of the night, my sweet lady.” Esme bowed and pressed her lips against the back of Josephine’s hand.


	15. married

“You still love me, yes?” Esme had her arms around Josephine and tugged her closer. She pressed her face against her neck, careful of her horns, and trying to get as close to her as possible. Josephine’s body felt warm and smelled of oranges and cinnamon and black hair tickled her nose.

“Esme. We married yesterday.” Her voice sound muffled and sleepy, but that was to be expected. They’d gone to bed some hours ago, still slightly drunk on wine and the festivities. Their dresses lay on the floor, white and shiny and very lovely. Bedding traditions varied throughout Thedas, but her former mercenary group made sure to yell the weirdest and loudest obscenities in their direction, when the happy couple departed for their first night as wives. 

It’d made her blush. 

A lot. 

And in the end, both of them seemed too tired to even think of trying out the lewd suggestions and settled on kisses and cuddles. The rest would have to wait for another night. And a time without the fear of Josephine’s family might listening to them.

“But you love me?” Esme tightening her grip.

Sighing, Josephine rolled around and came to face her. “Very much.” She was soft and warm and perfect. Her eyes still carried traces of golden dust. She’d been looking like a goddess in her dress and with her skin glowing like some forbidden treasure.

“I love you, too.” Esme resisted the urge to kiss her and settled on pulling her even closer. Josephine laughed and wriggled, as if trying to escape, but then settled against Esme’s chest. 

“I sure hope you do. My mother would have both our hides, if we suddenly decide to part ways.” Josephine surely got her fierceness from her.

Esme linked their hands. “I’ll never leave you.”

“Good.” Josephine smiled.


	16. haunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have some Leliana and Esme watching Josephine :)

Esme took a deep breath. 

Her closed eyes created the illusion of privacy amidst gossiping nobles. Maybe they would just leave, if she ignored them long enough. Sadly most of the invited guests bathed in an aura of arrogance and self-importance and didn’t care whether the Inquisitor was actually listening and talking to them. She rubbed her neck. The uniform sat too tight around her hips and it itched on her neck. Esme needed to call in a tailor to make something more comfortable for her build. Probably wide trousers the way Bull wore them. They offered enough space for thick Qunari legs.

“Excuse me.” She nodded into the general direction of the nobles, who continued talking without missing a single word. Of course. A heathen wouldn’t even understand their concerns in terms of allowing the mages to roam free throughout Skyhold. Esme suppressed the urge of rolling her eyes and concentrated on finding some wine to ease her nerves and temper. A snack would also help, but they were past the hour of food and the tables looked bare.

A slender hand appeared in her line of sight. “Are you alright?”

Somehow Leliana had managed to approach her without Esme even hearing her steps or seeing that shockingly red hair.

“Yes, I guess.” She wasn’t, but expressing weakness in front of her spymaster appeared rather inadvisable. And her observation skills offered the bard more than actual words. Leliana’s gaze looked unwavering and she came to stand at Esme’s side, quietly observing the hall of Skyhold and especially Josephine.

She seemed to dance. Every step full of grace, every laughter the sound of pearls.

Esme tilted her head. “She is amazing.”

Leliana granted her one of her rare smiles.“She is. But you have to remember that she endured years upon years of training for this.”

They stayed there for a while. Hidden in the shadows of a pillar, simply enjoying Josephine and her charms. A single smile lit up the whole hall and even the most dour of noblemen didn’t seem able to resist her sweet voice. Her touch was a blessing and the gold of her dress gleamed especially bright.

“If anyone is rude to her, I’ll throw a fireball in their direction.” Esme felt the magic in her body, ready to protect her lover from every obstacle.

“I’ll help you. Maybe not with a fireball, but I still got my bow.”

Esme nodded. “Good.”


	17. invite me

“Inquisitor Adaar?”

Esme looked up from a stack of papers, which were keeping her occupied, and found one of their agents waiting in front of her desk. “Yes?”

The scout gave her a letter, nodded, and vanished as quickly as she had entered her office. Curious. Most of the time, they stayed for some small talk or a cup of tea, if they’d served her for more than a month. She always wanted to know the people, who put their lives in danger for the Inquisition.

Esme opened the envelope to find a golden card filled with a flourish, black script. Tall letters, flowers in the beginning and the end and a faint scent of orange and cinnamon. She knew the handwriting, but wondered why Josephine had felt the urge to send her a note. After all, they lived in the same fortress and were probably separated by around five minutes of walking. Ten, if you took the scenic route.

My dearest

I would love to spend some time with you, because I miss you and my heart can’t bear being without you for that long.

If your schedule allows it, come and meet me in our quarters.

Yours,

Josephine

Short and to the point. Esme compared the card to the stack of reports, some of them covered in blood and dirt, and decided that maybe it really was time for a break. And for Josephine. After breaking their fast together in the early hours of the morning, they hadn’t been able to see each other. Or even steal a kiss.

Carefully Esme put away the ink and feather and made her way through Skyhold.

A faint scent made her wonder what exactly Josephine was doing in their quarters. Climbing the stair to the tower, she smelled something sweet? Heavy.

“Have I surprised you?” Josephine stood in front of a laden table, but looked far more delectable than any of the foods. 

She wore a thin, silken robe, with a loose scarf tied around her waist to keep it closed. Bless the dressmaker, who’d made something as beautiful as this. 

Esme felt blood rush to her cheeks and rubbed her neck. “Josephine, I … you look stunning.” More than that, but it was quite impossible to find words, which matched this gorgeous being.

“Thank you, love. Want to join me?” Josephine moved to the side and allowed her to take a seat.

“Of course.”

She took a sip of the white wine and tried not to stare too openly at Josephine. Esme decided that she must have done something right in her life, because a horned giant like her found a love like her.

“How did I earn this? I haven’t forgotten some special day? A feast?” She still found it troubling how many days were actually dedicated to the Maker or Andraste and every single saint. Growing up outside of the Qun didn’t mean that she was that knowledgeable about human customs. 

Josephine put a slender hand atop of hers. “Because you deserve it. All the hard work, all the fighting.” She kissed her knuckles.

“And I wanted to see you smile, today.”


	18. an army of puppies

Esme stared at the puppy. Its plumb tail wagged and huge eyes looked at her with softness. Another dog joined the first time, acted with bravery, and climbed on her lap. That one tried to bite her finger. A third one followed shortly after. Then a fourth, fifth. 

She found herself covered in a litter of mabaris shortly after.

“And you’ll be a vicious wardog some day?” More tail wagging and high pitched yowling. Esme nudged one’s nose and it started to chew on her vest. Such a dangerous animal.

Chuckling, Josephine placed herself on straw bale. “You look adorable.”

“Me or the dogs?” She stroked their little heads. Very, very carefully. Right now, they appeared more like some Orlesian lap dog than the famous breed. A wet nose pushed against her hand and the puppy urged her to rub its belly. 

“Both.”

“But what to do? Cullen mentioned that we should play with them? Are they big enough to fetch a ball yet?” The proud owner of this litter had to oversee the transport of their war machines and found himself unable to take his new friends with him. For obvious reasons. Eight clumsy puppies shouldn’t ride a trebuchet. It would surely raise the morale, though.

She’d never seen the man looking more proud, clutching every little dog close to his chest. He planned on breeding a whole army for the Inquisition and Esme kept her doubts to herself, and let him have his dreams.

Josephine shrugged and the sunlight bathed her in gold. Dust flowed through the stables and tickled her nose.

“You know even less about this than me?” Esme lifted one of the pups and inspected it more closely. It shared the strange color of Cullen’s mabari and seemed barely able to stay awake. Impressive.

“I’m not Fereldan.”

“My parents owned some old, brutish dog and we never shared much love.” Pickles had been old for most of her life and when he died, her parents dug him a grave behind the cottage. They’d never taken another dog in and seldom talked about the ugly thing. Esme felt more comfortable around a horse, or even a cow.

Josephine dangled a long piece of straw in front of a puppy. It didn’t react and just looked at her like with clueless eyes.

“Cats are prefered in Antiva. Their grace and hunting skills make them more appealing, I guess.” Nodding, Esme leaned her back against the wooden wall. Her legs stretched seemed a marvelous place for soon to be soldiers to climb on. Two of them had fallen asleep between her knees. 

They snored.

She had to admit that they were rather cute, plump and soft and warm, but Cullen should have left them some instruction on how to entertain them. Esme decided that asking Blackwall sounded like a good plan.

“Josephine?” Esme sound panicky.

“Yes, my dear?”

“I think one just peed on me.”


	19. on a balcony

Esme stopped midstep.

She put her correspondences down and watched the lone figure. Josephine stood on her balcony, arms on the ceiling, and face held towards the sun. Esme had invited her to visit her quarters every time that she needed a bit of fresh air, and a break from her responsibilities, without believing that she would actually accept.

And there she was. Beautiful in the golden light and stunning, her figure slumped for once. Esme felt a well known tug in her stomach and heart. Her palms began to sweat. Following her instincts meant fleeing and possible hiding with Blackwall in the stables.

She felt frozen in place, until Josephine turned around. “Inquisitor Adaar!” Her eyes were wide. “I’m sorry, I should have asked, but…” Josephine twisted a ring on her finger. “I needed some air.” 

She looked tired.

Running an organisation like theirs demanded a lot of them. Sleepless nights seemed normal and Esme was ever so thankful that she didn’t need to talk to all of their allies. Most of nobility despised an oxman running the Inquisition anyhow and she still dreaded the idea of her attending any official business.

Esme raised her hands. “You don’t have to apologize. Everything is fine. There is enough space for the both of us.” She seemed surprised about her own bravery and forced herself not to rub her neck in some sort of nervous habit.

Josephine’s eyes darted to somewhere behind Esme. “I can leave, if you desire to be alone.”

“No, please stay. I’m in dire need of some air myself.” Being stuck in a room all day, ruined her patience and she longed for some quiet hours of knitting and maybe a good book. Enjoying Josephine’s company stood above all else, though.

“Thank you, Inquisitor Adaar.” She bowed her head slightly.

“Esme.” She touched Jospehine’s arm. “I am Esme.”


End file.
